Nothing That We Want

Perfection is a concept still misunderstood. Follow me as its uncharted origins are revealed for your eager eyes.

Submitted:Mar 27, 2012
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Where are they? Where is where, anyways? This is Nothing. And in
Nothing, a meeting has been called. Death, the shadow; Six, the
number so close to the name; Change, a constant alteration, which
always stays the same; Imperfection, a paradigm of a paradox in a
conundrum's enigma and Universe, a playground for these powers.

Doubtless, your question is still unsettled; regardless, the
gathering advances. The powers crept into the infinite span of
the chamber. The dodecahedron shape was intricately carved of
luminous blue stones. Its walls hummed to a tune unbeknownst to
the guests. The floor of this heavenly room was as white as a
Universe's supernova, sparkling with several freckles of black,
iridescent spots. Each entity, which had arrived, with each their
own inherent arrogance, took their seats behind the designated
desks. By an unknown power, these powerful beings had been forced
to arrive in this… abysmal cell. And as an added insult, not one
of them could see the face owned by their despised others. It was
a zoo of madness, waiting to erupt.

"Does anyone know what we are here for?" the first thing spoke.
The voice came from all across the Brobdingnagian walls. And only
after the conceited beings saw the billions of eyes reveal
themselves across the surfaces of these walls, did anything stir.

"Are you Universe?" Imperfection sneered to the army of eyeballs.
The being looked around the room again. Several thousand light
years to his left, was a gold, candle on a desk.

"What sort of fool does not know the realm in which he dwells?"
came Universe's reply.

Death, the shadow, was eerily plastered to one of the colossal
walls. His candle, Uriel, stood sentinel on his appointed desk,
while her son, the dancing flame, quivered his best in order to
cast Grim on the wall. For now, Death would take the form of
human. He had decided that anything more
capable-looking, would place him in a tight spot with the other
fools.

"How dare you call me a fool," blared the impulsive Imperfection.
"Watch your tongue, Starbanner. Unlike you, I am not
glued to a single spot."

Change had arrived as well. On his mind was not the squabble
between the shapeshifter, Imperfection, and the infinite, marble
chamber that was Universe. Change had his mind on other things.
On the origins.

Several eons had spoken of coming to the Valhalla, and surely,
Change's form would please whichever force beckoned him and the
others. Thanks to the finely polished surfaces, his omniscient
field of vision could make out his appearance that had been
donned for the congregation - a bubbling cloud of quicksilver,
which continued to flow upwards and to the floor simultaneously.
Change's liquid innards - and outards - swelled and sloshed to
create a vaguely hourglass-like shape that stood vicariously
behind his appointed desk.

"Will someone please tell me why I have to make room for such a
useless entity," Universe sneered from his myriad eyeballs.

Meanwhile, Six watched on as the trivial scuffle between the two
continued. The contestants of the verbal clash were both
interesting colleagues of Six. With the twelve eyes in
its possession, Six analyzed the first faction of the debate -
Imperfection. Each of the six bodies of Six, could not perceive
the same figure to associate with Imperfection's appearance.
Mind, the most stable of Six, saw intelligence incarnate.

Soul saw hope in place of the harrowing being. Heart noticed
eternal love and Body found the pinnacle of health. 'What is
this?' Six thought in unison. The other two pieces of Six,
Belief and Drive, saw truth and inspiration, respectively.
'Surely, something with the power to alter its form to suit
another being's desire… is all-powerful.' Again, Six
continued to dwell in the well of their thoughts. But sadly, they
could not contemplate for long - the other side of the ongoing
argument had features just as amusing.

As always, Universe had shirked the decision to appear as a
being, and instead turned itself into the entire meeting room.

Stars sparkled within the atoms and molecules of the glistening
cobalt walls… and in between the billion blinking eyes.

'But does Universe have to materialize so many eyes into the
walls? If he were the container of all our power, then even one
eye would be too many. No?'

"Do you believe in perfection?" another voice echoed across the
confines of Universe's form.

Each of the beings present - Death, Universe, Change,
Imperfection and the six of Six - turned their figures all over
in an attempt to locate the source of the sound.

"What is it you search for?" the sound came again. What was most
peculiar of the event, was not the absence of an origin or
speaker… but the apparent confusion of Universe, the vessel of
everything. And truthfully, Universe was every bit as confused as
each of the other entities.

Once more, the voice came: "Is it to best each other? Or is it to
best everything?"

"What lies do you present before us?" the brash Universe roared.
He would have none of this young foolishness, taking place in
his embrace.

"What of you, Death?" the enigmatic sound pulsed. "Or Change?"

Silence crept in for a blink of a second.

And then it spoke: "Wouldn't any of you… want to be - Perfect?"

He had their attention.

"Perfection was discarded as impossible," Death whispered from
his ghastly apparition.

"It was never discarded as impossible," the voice lulled. "It was
accepted."

"And what do you propose?" the six of Six questioned.

"Here and now, each of the candidates of perfection that have
ever existed in the Universe, sit together."

"Hmm?" the eyes of Universe each raised an eyebrow in
condescending question.

"And Universe as well," the voice included confidently.

"That's more like it," Universe grumbled.

"So… what do you say?" the voice questioned.

"Explain it more," Imperfection ordered with keen interest. If
anyone wanted to be perfect, it would have to be this one.

"Time has told me, that not much of him remains. We are to decide
upon the pinnacle of reality… before reality comes."

"Then make us all perfect," Six, the wisest of the beings,
suggested.

"Too much unfiltered Perfection is lethal," the voice explained.
"I need a fair agreement between the five of you present now.
Each one of you must firmly concur to the wishes of every other."

If the space between the members present, wasn't in light years,
a bustle of murmurs may have been heard at that instant.

"I nominate Death," Change declared proudly.

"And for what?" the crisp voice interrogated tonelessly.

"If life is lost from anything, its end must be perfect. It
should not be possible to cheat Death."

"I agree," Universe responded. "If your life ends, a second
chance shouldn't be granted. Think of a reality where nothing
ends…"

Six, seated farthest from Death, could only agree with the other
two opinions. Many things died… and frankly, if Death wasn't
Perfect, then several other features of reality would be lost.

Death had to be Perfect.

"Does anyone disagree?" the sound bounced. Silence was
the answer.

Some minutes later, the voice came back. "And what of you,
Universe? Does this pique your interest?"

"I have no understanding of this 'perfection' of which you speak.
My eyes have seen many, many things, but this ideal that you talk
about… is not one of them."

"Are you sure?" came a quick reply. "Are you sure you do not seek
this?"

"Very."

"Then I shall nominate Change," Death, the shadow, called to the
rest of us.

The billions of eyes in the room, all stared and focused on the
bubbling silver cloud.

Change shuffled nervously behind her desk. She had been genuinely
excited to appear in the meeting. But as the discussion dragged,
she began to realize just how imperfect she was. As her
liquid self continued to churn, so to did Six resume their
explanation.

"Perfection is not a necessity in an organism's life. Change
is." Six declared. "I ask you, Death, what would a
perfect Change look like to you?"

The shadow moved uneasily, but failed to utter a peep.

"Then it is declared," the voice said again, "Change is not -- "

"Is this discussion not a change?" the icy sound of Death,
questioned. "And wouldn't the best outcome of this meeting to
find Perfection, not be a Perfect Change?"

"It would be a development," Universe said.

"But that is what I mean!" the shadow jumped on the wall.
"Progress is Change!"

"You're defeating yourself, Death," Six groaned. "For now, I can
ask you this - 'Have you ever witnessed Perfect Progress?'."

"I agree," a new person said. It was Change.

"Change?" Death asked in surprise.

"I'm terribly sorry, Death. Thank you for the nomination, but a
necessity can not be a perfection."

"Does anyone object?" the all-seeing voice asked.

No one, not even Death, had anything to say.

"Then Change will not be perfect."

"Universe, Imperfection, and me," Change said. "Death has already
been accepted… so then, what about you, Six?"

"I stand as Universe," Six declared softly. "Maybe another may
find me to be… perfect. But amongst you - my peers - I cannot
take myself to be so high."

"Well, I say that I'm quite capable of being Perfect,"
Imperfection scoffed loudly.

Not a word was spoken. And sadly, Imperfection saw this as a sign
to continue.

"Look at me, each of you! Do you not see the thing you desire,
whenever your eyes cast towards me?"

"What I want is not perfection," Change cut curtly.

"Neither do I," Universe added.

"But don't you understand. I'm what you madly desire! Surely,
what you want cannot be a flawed entity?"

"Silence!" the ambient voice bellowed. "Imperfection, I
say you are not worthy to be Perfect."

The figure of Imperfection glanced frantically around the room.
Surely, such blasphemy couldn't be happening to him. He
became whatever you wanted. How could anything
not consider him perfect? Whatever this voice was, it
was not sane. 'No', thought Imperfection. 'I will
discover just what this voice really is. And when this foolish
meeting is over, I will declare myself Perfect.'

Imperfection, the instant Perfection had been brought into the
conversation, had been convinced that his calling had arrived.
But now, like a sick joke, this novel, and evidently daft, voice,
was trying to strip him of it. Well, if no one would realize his
potential with him, then it appeared Imperfection would have to
achieve it without them.

"On what?" Imperfection sneered to the voice, "do you
assume that I'm not good enough?"

"You are perfect," the voice said with renewed calm.

The tone of the statement, coupled with the actual meaning,
nearly threw Imperfection out of his seat.

"And you are missing a brain," Imperfection sneered. "Or is
contradiction your name?"

"Do you have any flaws, Imperfection?" the voice asked, "if you
always become what I, or anyone else wants?"

"Well, of course not," Imperfection smirked. Around him, the
other entities sat close-lipped and focused. They, as much as
him, wanted to know where this was going.

"And I suppose you have no weaknesses, either?"

"Nope."

"Nothing holding you back?"

"Not a thing," Imperfection smiled proudly. 'If that was a
test, then there's no way I got less than perfect scores,'
Imperfection grinned in his thoughts.

"Then that is why you fail."

"What?" Imperfection's… ever-changing… face, twisted into a mix
of confusion and anger. In his fit, the entity rose to his feet
and did his best to appear imposing. "Where are you? Come out
now!"

"This is why you are not Perfect," the voice stated sorrowfully.
"It is because you have no flaw. It is because there is nothing
wrong with you, that you cannot be Perfect."

Now, everyone in the meeting room was confused. Change began to
bubble with slightly more force. And four of Six, rose from their
seats.

"On what," Universe questioned with opened eyes, "is your basis?"

"Perfection must have flaws. To be perfect, you must be complete.
And you cannot be complete, if you only have excellence in you.
To reach the top, you must've faced the bottom. Imperfection
cannot be Perfect, because Imperfection, is not imperfect."

"What?" Imperfection spat in disbelief.

"Imperfection is perfect. But is not Perfect, because he has no
imperfections. Thus, Imperfection is imperfect… because he is
perfect. But he needs a defect, a blemish, something wrong with
him. Only then will he change from perfect, to Perfect."

Imperfection, fully fed up, and immensely furious, left the room.
His perfect form faded into black and finally, was lost in the
numerous other shades in Universe's confines.

"So who are you?" Six asked with a stutter. They didn't want to
know the answer, but Six knew that they needed to.

"I am Nothing," the voice responded. "And I have called this
meeting to a close."

"And what exactly did you get from this meeting?" Change asked.

"Probably a good laugh," Universe muttered.

"I have decided what shall be Perfect in reality," Nothing
stated. "Death, and Me."

"But where is Death?"

The members of the congregation glanced to the table of the
shadow. But all they found was a candle, and numerous grey
tendrils of silver smoke licking the air - the candle had burned
out.

"Is he still Perfect?" Change muttered.

"I - I…" Nothing had nothing to say.

Instead, Six spoke: "It would appear, that until he returns…
Death cannot be Perfect."